The Secret of the Sacred Four

by E J Elwin

  The whole time, I thought of my mom. Memories of her flashed across my mind, mostly from my early childhood. I remembered her making my first Halloween costumes, saw her tearfully dropping me off at my first day of school. Fear ran constantly through my blood like an infection, fear at what Deidre would do or had already done to her… But my rage at the swan witch and at the Brotherhood, my determination to triumph over them with my sister witches, was what drove me. It allowed me to smile and run through the wonders of the Illusion Room, swinging my axes and throwing out bursts of brilliant yellow orange flames.

  **

  Tuesday night arrived, and the sky outside the sunroom windows was oppressively dark as we ate our way through an Italian dinner of pizza and lasagna. I felt as confident as I possibly could, considering that my mom was being held hostage and I was facing yet another battle for my life, this time against both human and non-human enemies.

  Although no one said it, I knew we were all nervous about going to the cemetery without Jasper and the remarkable help of his Sight Heightening Spell; but the possibility of him coming with us was non-existent. He needed to rest and that was that. Jessica further underscored this fact when she emerged from his room after feeding him lasagna and informed us that he had blabbered sleepily about his favorite sitcoms from the 1980s when he was a teenager.

  I donned a black leather jacket I found in the Wardrobe Room, and the girls picked out similar black coats in order to be as stealthy as possible in the night. We then gathered up our weapons from the Combat Cave. Jessica took Jasper’s katana from its display while Harriet loaded up with every knife and dagger she could find, storing them in her brown leather satchel.

  Jessica led us downstairs to the tall oak cabinet of spell supplies, and I finally got a good look at the shimmering treasures within. Shining crystals of every color filled the shelves. There were large ones like the Crossing and Cognition Crystals, but most of them were small enough to be hung from sparkling silver necklaces or were set into rings. I was sure that the ones on the necklaces were Cloaking Crystals, while the ones on the rings had to be Concealment Crystals. They were perfectly octagonal and looked just like the dark blue one Jasper wore. There were rows and rows of them, and I wondered how many were original disguises and how many were based on existing people.

  Jessica reached down to the very bottom shelf and emerged with a long shining object. I thought at first that it was a twirling baton, until I saw the giant glittering stone at its tip, which sparkled with a thousand tiny rainbows.

  “Is that a diamond?” asked Sylvie, gaping at it.

  “It’s the Banishing Crystal,” said Jessica. “It’s used at the end of a silver scepter. As you face the demon or demons you want to banish, you say the Banishing Spell and you point this at them. The Banishing Crystal is one of the rare crystals that’s used with a scepter. It holds a lot of power and so the length of silver is there to channel it in the precise direction it needs to go. The silver also harnesses the power of the coven doing the spell and passes it through to the crystal.”

  “It’s so pretty,” said Lizzie, the crystal reflected in her blue eyes.

  It looked just like a diamond but was the size of a plum, and was cut in a distinct shape that looked like two pyramids stuck together at their bases. My vague memory of geometry class told me it was called an octahedron. It was encased in a delicate silver claw that extended from the end of the scepter. Tiny purple stones were set into the claw, looking like glimmering flies caught in a silver web. All together, it was a dizzyingly beautiful object that looked like it belonged in the hands of a queen. It was fitting that something so gorgeous should be used as a weapon against a hideous monster.

  “I know it looks expensive,” said Jessica, indicating the Banishing Crystal, “but it’s really not. It’s made pretty easily in the cauldron the way Concealment Crystals are. Anyway, I think Hortensia should be the one to hold on to it until it’s needed— if it’s needed.”

  “Me?” Hortensia asked, startled. “Why me?”

  “It’s safest with you because of your gift,” said Jessica. “If you were tackled by someone who wanted it, it would be as untouched as you would. If you were backed into a corner— well, that’s the thing, isn’t it? No one can back you into a corner. Just be careful not to drop it.”

  She winked at Hortensia, who took the shining silver scepter in her hands with an expression like she was being handed some priceless ancient artifact.

  **

  Seaside Cemetery was at the other end of town just beyond the busy downtown area where Huerta’s Restaurant and the Purple Haze were. I watched the lights of buildings and traffic fly by from the back seat of the Range Rover as Jessica sped us smoothly toward the place where I would find my mom— either dead, or alive but in horrible distress.

  I was itching to light my biggest fire yet, determined to torch Deidre for real this time. I had my sister witches with me, the Sacred Four, and Harriet and Jessica who were mightily powerful in their own right. How Deidre expected to win against us, I had no idea.

  We left the lights of downtown behind and entered a darker residential area like the one where Jessica and Jasper lived. These roads also wound through wooded hills that were densely populated with pine trees. We drove for a few minutes in what felt like unnatural darkness, before Jessica slowed down and pulled to the side of the road.

  “It’s just a few minutes that way,” she said, pointing through the windshield into the darkness. “I think we should walk from here so we don’t announce ourselves.”

  We stepped out of the Range Rover and I saw that Jessica had parked in a shelter of trees which kept the car somewhat concealed from passersby, just like she had in the Tillamook Head woods. We gathered our weapons from the trunk and began our hike up the long dark road which sloped slightly upward. Our path was faintly lit by starlight, but there was no moon to be seen.

  After a few minutes, I started to catch the salty smell of the ocean and then, as if following on cue, I heard the distant sound of the surf, peaceful and constant. I thought of the waves rushing against the building in the Halfway Place, remembered holding Connor’s hand as we sat outside by the rocks on my second visit… Those images were pushed from my mind as the faint outlines of tombstones and mausoleums loomed out of the darkness like specters.

  Seaside Cemetery was a lot bigger than the cemetery I’d known in Wineville. It became larger with each step we took, spreading out before us like a vast roadmap of graves and statuettes. It was also a lot more hilly than the one in Wineville, the lawn sloping up and down like a warped vinyl record. A small white church with a single spire on its roof stood at the far end of the sea of graves. It looked haunted and creepy in the night, its stained-glass windows appearing monochrome in the gloom. I sensed that the ocean was just a short walk beyond it.

  The six of us stopped at the edge of the cemetery and looked around. There was no sign of Deidre or the two masked men we knew would be accompanying her, but it would be easy for them to keep out of sight behind one of the mausoleums or inside the church.

  “Stay close together,” said Jessica, “in case we need the force field.”

  “Where’s Lizzie?” Sylvie asked suddenly, looking around in the darkness.

  “I’m here,” said Lizzie, materializing out of thin air. “Sorry, just practicing.”

  “It’s nearly midnight,” said Harriet, checking her watch. “Shall we?”

  We stepped onto the grass and I felt a chill. It was as if I could sense the dark magic Deidre was cooking up nearby. I glanced at the others to see if they’d felt anything and saw Lizzie rubbing her neck where her Cloaking Crystal was. We all had them on even though the person who’d been aggressively tracking us until now would soon know exactly where we were.

  We moved quietly through the rows of graves, glancing all around us for any indication of a sneak attack. We all seemed to have silently agreed to head in the direction of the church, and I watched its ghostly
white walls come closer and closer as we wove around the many tombstones. I noticed that many of them were adorned with fresh flowers and gifts, and reflected that only a few hours ago, someone likely sat here weeping over their lost loved one.

  “We’re coming up on where my friend Lindsay is buried,” whispered Hortensia. “And the rest of the kids from the music room…”

  “My friends from the swim team are here, too…” said Lizzie, barely audible.

  I looked around at the graves with flowers and gifts and saw a letterman jacket from Seaside High School draped over one of the headstones. Another headstone had some photos of a baby girl propped up against it, and I knew they were of the teenager buried underneath.

  It was heartbreaking to see so many lost kids, half of them murdered, the other half drowned at sea. I was about to say something sympathetic to Hortensia and Lizzie, when Hortensia herself put out a hand and grabbed my arm, staring at something ahead. I followed her gaze and saw a large statue of an angel among the graves. It was taller than all of us, towering over the surrounding statues. Its head was slightly bowed and even in the dim light, I could see that the artist who had carved it had meant for it to be expressing grief. I looked down at its feet and saw that it stood on top of a stone plinth, which explained why it was so tall. It was also there that I saw why Hortensia had grabbed my arm.

  A woman sat on the grass beside the angel, resting against the plinth. Her hands were bound together with rope. Despite the darkness, and despite the blindfold and the tape over her mouth, it took me no more than a second to recognize my mother.

  I ran toward her, gripping my axes, ready to cut up the ropes around her wrists. I was four graves from her when I was suddenly stopped in my tracks. I looked wildly around, thinking that the two Brotherhood members had appeared and grabbed me, but there was no one there. I ran forward again, but an invisible wall blocked my path. A force field. I swung my right axe at the air in front of me and there was a burst of blue sparks where it struck the invisible barrier.

  “Mom!” I shouted, pushing my body weight against the barrier.

  She stirred feebly and turned her head up in the direction of my voice. There was movement on either side of me and I saw that Harriet, Jessica, and the girls had caught up to me.

  “Can we break it down?” asked Sylvie, looking around at the invisible barrier. She swung her large broadsword and there was another burst of blue sparks in the air.

  Hortensia strained her palms against the air in front of her. “I can’t pass through it.”

  “Stand back,” I said quickly.

  They all stepped back and I dropped my axes on the grass to free up my hands. I let my rage fill me up, then threw out both hands and shot a burst of yellow orange fire at the force field. The statues and tombstones around us were thrown into daylight brightness as the flames collided with the force field in a shower of blue sparks. I kept them going like I had in my bedroom, spewing them out like they were a raging forest fire that I had managed to capture.

  When I felt like I might have made a dent, I let the flames go out, plunging us back into darkness, then reached out to feel the force field. It was as hard and unyielding as it had been before. I watched my mom struggle against the ropes that bound her and heard her try to say something from behind the tape over her mouth. My fire reared up inside me and I clenched my fists, ready to throw out another jet of flames— and then Deidre appeared.

  She stepped out from behind the tall stone angel, reminding me eerily of how Connor had stepped out from behind the jukebox in the Halfway Place. If I hadn’t already known what she looked like in her human form, I might have thought she was a ghost. She wore a long, flowy white dress that was a lot like the one she’d worn as a child in the vision we’d seen. Like then, it made her look washed out, more pale than she already was. Her face was cut in the harsh angles we’d seen in the vision of her as an adult, and her long black hair hung limply over her shoulders.

  In another life, in another world, she might have been beautiful. As it was, her mouth was curled into an insane, sadistic smile as she stepped toward us, twirling a shining knife in her hands. It gleamed even in the moonless night, managing to catch the scant starlight.

  “Force fields are fun, aren’t they, Burned Witch?” There was a high-pitched, psychotic edge to her voice that made the hairs on my neck stand up. “What’s wrong?” she asked, tilting her head in mock puzzlement. “Can’t the mighty Sacred Four break through a little force field?”

  I heard my mom try to speak again, her voice muffled behind the tape.

  “Let her go,” I said evenly. “She’s not a witch. Leave her out of this and deal with me.”

  “Oh, do you want your mommy?” Deidre cooed in a deranged baby voice. “Look at the great prophesied witch crying for his mommy!”

  There was a burst of blue sparks directly in front of Deidre’s face, and I watched the knife that had caused them hover in midair and then shoot itself again at the barrier, sending out a second pop of sparks. I looked around and saw Harriet glaring at Deidre in white-hot fury.

  “Why don’t you step out here and we can talk about this?” she asked in the mildest of voices, but I could hear the rage boiling underneath.

  “Do you want to trade yourself for Mrs. Atwood here?” Deidre asked blithely. “I’d much rather have one of the Sacred Four. How about you, blondie?”

  Lizzie’s pale face stood out in the dark, her eyes wide with fear.

  “You’re not going to get your thirteenth heart,” said Jessica. “Sorry, better luck next time. Let Arthur’s mother go and you can just fly away. It’s as simple as that.”

  “Is it, witch?” asked Deidre, spitting out the last word.

  “You’re a witch too, you idiot!” snapped Sylvie.

  “Sylvie,” said Lizzie warningly, as Deidre’s eyes landed on Sylvie and narrowed.

  “We know what happened to you,” Hortensia spoke up. “We know the way your mom… treated you. But we aren’t like that. You can’t blame all witches for what your family did to you.”

  Deidre made a derisive noise, eyeing the long quarterstaff in Hortensia’s hands.

  “Don’t hate my mom,” I said quietly, “because yours didn’t love you.”

  Deidre stared at me, and her face was impossible to read. Was it rage there? Sadness?

  “Your mother,” she said softly, “isn’t important enough to hate.”

  She turned around and snatched my mom up roughly by the shoulders, pulling her into a standing position. I reflexively threw myself against the force field, trying with all my strength to break through. They were feet from me and yet so far away. When Deidre next spoke, it wasn’t to any of us, and it wasn’t in a regular speaking voice. It was the unmistakable sound of chanting:

  “Blood for blood, and we end the sacred pests

  Blood for blood, and now come our party guests…”

  Deidre reached out and pulled both the tape and the blindfold off my mom’s face. I saw the eyes that I’d seen my whole life, the eyes that so resembled my own, now tearstained and disoriented. They found me and there was a moment of recognition, of relief.

  “Arthur…” my mom cried, and it was agonizing to hear her so full of fear. “I love you.”

  Then Deidre stabbed her. It happened so fast that I barely saw it. I felt a scream explode inside me but only a choking sound came out of my mouth. My mom twitched in a spasm of pain, her eyes wide with shock, and then she fell to the grass at the foot of the stone angel.

  All around me, the girls and Harriet and Jessica were shouting but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I only watched as my mom tried to roll over in the grass, a dark red wound on her back.

  “Mom—” was all I managed to get out before she stopped moving.

  I looked up at Deidre, feeling like a volcano about to erupt, but she wasn’t looking at me. Her eyes were closed and her face was turned upward at the dark sky. She held her bloody knife in one hand and a red o
bject the size of a fist in the other. For one horrifying second, I thought it was my mom’s heart, and then the object glowed. I realized what it was: a Blood Crystal. The crystal used solely for resurrection spells. But who was Deidre resurrecting? Her Brotherhood friends were buried in the Tillamook Head woods and under the hill behind Huerta’s… She suddenly shouted into the night:

  “Blood for blood, I offer this toll

  Blood for blood, I ask for control

  Of that which crawls without a soul…

  Arise!”

  The dark sky was lit by a flash of lightning that illuminated the entire cemetery. Deidre opened her eyes and smiled her insane smile. “And now the party really begins.”

  A terrible scream split the air, and I looked around to see Lizzie scrambling away from the nearest grave. Something had burst out of it— a hand, grabbing at the air with filthy rotting fingers. Hortensia screamed next, raising her staff as she looked around at the graves in horror.

  All around us, hands were shooting out of the dirt, looking like twisted live plants with fingers. The hands became arms, the arms were followed by heads, and then there were faces. I saw the contorted decaying features of people who looked barely older than children. They were the teenagers from Seaside High who’d been killed in the gun massacre and the Seastar disaster. There were at least two dozen of them, clawing at the earth and tugging on the grass as they climbed out of their graves.

  I couldn’t understand how Deidre had resurrected so many with just one spell, and then I heard their hissing breaths, their animal-like snarls… They had milky-white eyes, the irises pale and faded, the way Connor’s had been when I opened his casket but before he’d fully returned…